


Almost is Never Enough

by zetuslapetus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Recreational Drug Use, mention of beth/dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: “Why are you here?” She blurts out, annoyed.“I’m in detention, Elizabeth,” he responds slowly like he’s talking to a small child.She stops shelving, turns on her toe to face him. He’s already looking at her.“You don’t show up to school all week but you show up to detention?” She scowls at him.He stops shelving, leans a shoulder on the bookcase, and smiles slowly.“You been watching me, Elizabeth?”ORIt starts in detention.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 24
Kudos: 247





	Almost is Never Enough

**Wednesday**

The dismissal bell shrills through the classroom signaling the end of the day. Beth moves slowly, running only on four hours of sleep. Annie had missed curfew the night before, and Beth had waited up until she’d come home before going to bed. She packs her bag slowly, stuffs her biology book inside, and has to shake the bag a little violently before she can zip it up fully. 

_ The front door creaks and Annie steps inside on her toes, shoes in hand. Beth flips the hallway light on and steps into the corridor. Annie gasps, drops her shoe and tips to the side until she catches herself against the wall.  _

_ “Jesus, Beth!” Annie hisses.  _

_ “Do you know what time it is?” Beth snarls. She’s pissed.  _

_ Annie scoffs as she slips her jacket off. _

_ “You’re not mom, Beth, so stop acting like her.” _

_ Beth’s chest tightens. No, she’s not mom. Mom isn’t mom right now, but someone has to be. She extends a hand towards Annie, holds up a little baggie, and shakes it. _

_ “Where did you get this?” _

_ “Are you going through my stuff now?” Annie snaps and reaches out to grab the baggie but Beth snatches it out of her reach before she can. “God, you’re worse than mom.” _

_ “You smoke now? Where did you get it, Eddie?” Beth all but screams at her. _

_ Annie laughs sarcastically. “Eddie? You’re kidding, right?” She shakes her head and steps around Beth, headed for the stairs. _

_ “We’re not done talking about this, Annie,” Beth yells after her but the only response she gets is a middle finger and Annies back. _

Beth eyes the baseball field and takes a deep breath. She pulls the strap of her bag across her shoulder and walks forward. No, Annie wouldn’t tell her where she’d gotten it but Beth didn’t need her to, she already knew. There’s only one person at East Detroit High who it could have come from. Eddie, by way of Rio. 

She doesn’t stop until she’s close enough that there’s absolutely no question that she’s there to see him. He’s leaning against the shed, digging a small hole in the clay with his foot. If he’s watching the baseball game behind her he’s not paying attention because he doesn’t jump at whatever has his friend cheering.

She glances at the girl draped over his shoulder, Rhea, she thinks. A sophomore.

“I need to talk to you,” she says, loud enough for his friend to look her way, briefly distracted from the game.

Rhea frowns, pointedly looks her up and down.

“I’m busy,” Rio responds and dismisses her without even looking at her. He turns to Rhea and nudges her shoulder, wordlessly asking for her to pass the joint she’s holding. Beth’s cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blatant rejection but she refuses to back down.

She digs a hand into her pocket and pulls out the makeshift baggie of weed.

“You sell to fourteen-year-olds now?” She snaps and tosses the baggie at him. It flies through the air and lands at his feet. His eyes jump to it, but he doesn’t make a move to pick it up.

“Stay away from my sister, Rio, I mean it. Eddie too,” she snaps. 

Rhea scoffs but Beth doesn’t look at her. Rio turns to her, eyes dark at the mention of Eddie. He kicks off the shed with ease, slips away from Rhea, and collects the baggie off the ground before he steps up to Beth. She can’t help it, she stumbles backward. 

He holds up the baggie between his index and middle finger, inspects it for a moment before his eyes are back on her.

“This ain’t mine,” he shakes his head and tosses it back at her. It hits her in the shoulder and falls to the ground between their bodies.

“Bullshit,” she hisses. “Where else would she have gotten it from? I know it was Eddie.”

His eyes focus on her in a way that makes her belly twist. They’re dark, mean, almost. 

“Did she say she got it from Eddie?” He asks quietly, voice steady. 

Beth hesitates for a moment, her eyes flutter when he takes another step towards her. She has to tilt her head up to keep his gaze. Annie didn’t admit it, no. Beth had dug it out of her underwear drawer and concluded the rest herself.

“Maybe you should start with that boyfriend of yours,” Rio says coolly. “Nah, actually, now that I remember, he doesn’t buy weed anymore. Rich boy’s got coke money now,” he chuckles sarcastically with a tap to his temple like he’s remembering his order. 

Beth stumbles back another step, face falling and stomach twisting. She’d had her suspicions about Dean, especially the last few months, but she’d never  _ seen _ anything so it was easy to bury those thoughts. 

“Fuck you, Rio,” she mutters and turns away from him. She can hear his laugh as she flees.

He’s right, it’s not Eddie.

Annie denies it’s Eddie but doesn’t admit who gave it to her until Beth names him that night over tacos. 

“Was it Dean?” Beth asks quietly. 

Annie blinks, taken back by the question, and it’s all Beth needed to know that’s exactly who it is. 

“Oh god,“ Beth exhales, her stomach recoils and she drops her food. The taco spills apart and Beth feels like dry heaving.

“It’s my fault, Beth, I asked for - “

“Shut up,” Beth says and holds up her hand to cut Annie off. “You’re a kid, Annie, I don’t care what you asked for,” she shakes her head and leans back into the couch.

“I’m sorry, Beth,” Annie mumbles. They sit at the kitchen table in silence for a while, the only noise in the room coming from the living room TV. Annie picks through her taco and tries not to cry.

**_Thursday_ **

They break up the next day. Dean denies it all, lies to her face. She’s late for first period Spanish, and it’s her third tardy which means detention. 

Mrs. Garcia is a bitch but Beth likes her anyway. 

**Friday**

She doesn’t know why she feels the need to apologize, it’s not like he deserves it. He doesn’t come to class for the rest of the week, she doesn’t see him again until Friday, not until she walks into detention.

He’s sitting in the back of the classroom with the same guy from the baseball field chatting softly when he notices her. She sits in the front, ignores his stare, feels it prick at the back of the neck. Mr. Johnson stumbles in, talking on the phone. He gives Beth a curious look, no doubt surprised at her attendance. He hangs up with his wife but doesn’t bother sitting down.

“Alright, kids,” he says, look back to Rio and snaps his fingers for his attention. When the chattering behind Beth finally stops, Mr. Johnson gives them a dry smile. “I don’t want to be here any more than you do, so the sooner we get this done, the better.” 

Mr. Johnson pulls his glasses off the top of his head and settles them on his nose, then he squints at the piece of paper. “Your options are washing the beakers in the chemistry lab or shelving books,” he hums and looks up at the class. He exhales, crumples the paper, and speaks again. “Mr. Munez you’re with me, Rio, you and Beth are in the library.”

Beth can hear Munez groan from the back and Mr. Johnson shushing him. She feels like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice water over her head, and she does whatever she can to not shiver in her seat. 

“You’re free to leave when you’re done - but I will be checking that _it_ _is_ done,” Mr. Johnson taps on Beth’s desk and snaps his fingers again, beckoning Muniz out of the room. When they leave it’s just her and Rio. She hears him shuffle behind her, then he’s walking by her desk.

“Chop, chop Elizabeth,” he taunts as he walks out of the room.

_ Elizabeth _ . 

Other than her grandma Molly, he’s the only person who calls her by her full name. She hates that she doesn’t mind at all. He’d been doing it for as long as she can remember, for as long as she’d known him. 

The library is dark and empty. There are five carts of books that need to be shelved and Beth wants to die. Partly because this is taking forever and partly because Rio keeps looking at her. He’s in the same row she is, working from his own cart.

“Why are you here?” She blurts out, annoyed. 

“I’m in detention, Elizabeth,” he responds slowly like he’s talking to a small child. 

She stops shelving, turns on her toe to face him. He’s already looking at her.

“You don’t show up to school all week but you show up to detention?” She scowls at him.

He stops shelving, leans a shoulder on the bookcase, and smiles slowly.

“You been watching me, Elizabeth?”

She scoffs, turns away to hide her face. She feels the heat in her cheeks.  Sometimes, Beth catches him staring at her from across the cafeteria. It’s quick, never lingering when she catches him. She catches him because sometimes she's staring at him too.

She hears him laugh as he turns back to the shelf. He begins stuffing books back on the rack and she briefly wonders if he’s randomly slating books in wherever he can fit them. 

“You miss detention, you get suspended, and if I get suspended one more time I can’t graduate,” he adds quietly after a moment.

She can’t imagine a world where Rio cares about graduating but she doesn’t prod further. She focuses on clearing her cart so she can go home. 

“Why are you here?” He asks. 

“Mrs. Garcia.”

“Ah, Senora Garcia,” he says with a wheezy laugh then he adds something in Spanish and Beth turns to him with a frown. She hadn’t understood a word and he knows it. 

“What, Spanish messing up your Valedictorian dreams?” He teases. 

“I’m not Valedictorian,” she snaps back. She’d never wanted to be, either. She’d let go of those dreams long ago.

“Clearly,” he laughs, “Maybe you just need a tutor?” He asks and she looks over to see him ram a book into a spot it clearly doesn’t fit. 

“And who would that be, you?” she mocks his earlier teasing tone.

He doesn’t respond, he just knocks the book into its place. 

Beth pushes her cart and moves further down the aisle. 

After some time she hears him exhale loudly and slip away. She gives it a few minutes before she huffs, annoyed, and goes after him.

“I’m not doing this on my own, so can you - “ she begins prattling on before she steps out of the aisle. She pauses when her eyes find him in the far corner of the library, perched on a desk underneath an open window. He’s got something in his hand and she doesn’t understand what he’s doing until she gets closer.

It’s a joint. He rolls it between his thick fingers, wrinkles the paper into shape.

“You can’t be serious,” Beth says. 

“I heard you and Mr. Quarterback broke up,” he says, ignoring her comment. He fishes a lighter out of his pocket. “I hope it wasn’t something I said,” he smirks and looks up at her. He runs the joint between his lips and licks a thin line across it with his tongue. It distracts her for a brief moment. Her chest warms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snaps. “You can’t do  _ that _ , here.”

“No?” He asks with a small shake of his head and flicks the lighter on. She watches him slip the end of the joint between his lips and lean into the lighter. He lights the opposite end and takes a long drag.

The familiar smell invades her nostrils immediately. He takes another quick puff, holds the smoke in his lungs for a brief moment before he exhales it in her direction. 

She should leave, finish her cart, find Mr. Johnson.

“It  _ was _ him, wasn’t it?” Rio asks. She looks up, realizing she’d been staring at his mouth the entire time. 

He takes another drag and extends his hand out, offering the smoke to her. She doesn’t move.

“Come on, Elizabeth. If anyone needs it it’s you,” he chuckles. She looks at it, looks at the way his large hand engulfs it, the way it looks so little in his grasp. She shakes her head.

He shrugs.

“There are other ways to loosen up, I guess,” he says with a smirk, never breaking her eye contact. The insinuation is clear.

Her eyes land on the joint and he extends it to her again, without a word. She hesitates briefly but the way he’s looking at her makes her brave, giddy. She reaches out, takes it from him, careful to not touch him. When she brings it up to her lips his eyes drop to her mouth and he watches her inhale. 

She takes a soft drag and its strong, stronger than anything she’s ever smoked before. She holds it in her lungs until it burns until she can’t anymore, and then she’s coughing. 

“Easy,” she hears him mumble, he leans forwards and she almost thinks he’s about to touch her. She clears her throat and takes another inhale. She doesn’t cough again. 

She hands the joint back to him and when he takes it he covers her entire hand with his own. 

It doesn’t take long for her to feel the lightness in her head, and heaviness in her limbs. She slides onto the table next to him. They pass the joint back and forth for a while in silence. 

“I wouldn’t sell to your sister, I like her,” he says after a while. 

She chortles. 

_ Liar _ . 

“I’m serious, plus Eddie would kick my ass,” he says with a small laugh.

“Eddie?” Beth turns to face him and that’s when she realizes how close he is. Their thighs have been touching the entire time. 

He nods, and Beth watches as he looks down to her lips. 

“Why do you care about graduating?” She asks and reaches for the joint. He gives it to her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

She gives him a look that screams  _ are you shitting me _ .

He’s looking at her again in the same way he’d looked at her on the baseball field, with dark eyes.

“It’s important to my ma’,” he says. 

She can’t school her poker-face fast enough.

“What’s your grade in Spanish?” He asks and she can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her.

“B+,” she squints. “Mrs. Garcia hates me.”

“Nah, that’s just tough love,” he says with a shake of his head and grabs the joint from her. He touches her again when he does and Beth can’t help but look down at their hands. 

“Why don’t you care about graduating?” She blurts out and he frowns. He exhales the smoke and his fingers jump to his lips. He rubs at his bottom lip and Beth can see him pick off a stray piece of weed that’d fallen out of the wrapper.

“I just said it was - “ 

“No, you said it was important to your mom,” Beth says and looks up from his mouth. 

“Why do you care?” He asks and brings the joint back to his lips.

Beth shakes her head - she doesn’t, not really. 

“I’m the teaching assistant for Mr. Hopper’s Advanced Calc class,” Beth says and Rio snorts.

“I’m sure you are,” he teases and hands her the joint. She takes it but just holds it for a moment.

“You’re in that class,” she says and he nods slowly like he doesn’t get her point. She brings the joint up to her lips, takes a quick inhale. “You’re hardly ever  _ in _ class, but somehow, you have the highest grade out of anyone in the class,” she exhales and turns to him. “And the actual Valedictorian is in that class.”

He doesn’t respond, just watches her. She can’t help but smile as if she’d just discover a dirty secret about him that no one else knew. 

“Why’d you break up with Mr. Quarterback?” He throws back at her and reaches for the weed.

She rolls her eyes. 

“Why do you care?” She mimics his words from earlier. 

He exhales, blows the smoke away from her face, and quickly turns back to her.

“Why ain’t you answering the question?”

She exhales dramatically. “He’s a - “

“Imbecile?” He adds playfully. 

“A liar,” she finishes and reaches for the joint. 

He tut-tuts her, and pulls the joint out of her reach. She stretches for it, reaches across his body until she’s in his face. 

“Was it him, did he give it to Annie?” He whispers and Beth’s breath falters. He’s so close she can smell whatever soap he uses, can feel the heat radiating off of him. 

It happens very slowly. Beth’s not sure if it’s actually him moving slowly or if its the haze of the weed but his eyes drop to her lips and he licks his own. 

Her mouth parts open, she wants to tell him  _ absolutely not  _ but then his lips are on hers and her eyes snap closed. He catches her bottom lip between his own, kisses them softly, runs his tongue over them until her lips part. He moves deliberately and it pulls a quiet whine out of her.

The noise urges him on and his next kiss is harder. He plies her mouth open with his own, licks more noises out of her. His tongue is soft, lazy but urging. She doesn’t know how long they sit like that but by the time she has to pull back to take a deep breath she realizes he’s got a hand buried in her hair. When she inhales her breath stutters and he pulls away with a lazy smile.

“Elizabeth Marks, who would have known,” he says with a pant and smacks his lips like he’s still tasting her. He untangles his hand from her hair, brushes it behind her ear before he drops it completely.

“The books,” she says densely. She feels good, warm, and hazy. But she misses the press of his lips, his tongue. She shakes her head to clear her mind from the weed. 

There’s a pounding at the door and Beth gasps. Her shoulders stiffen, and she jumps off the table. 

It’s Mr. Johnson, pounding at the front door, peeking through the little window and pointing to his watch. 

Rio chuckles and flicks the rest of the joint out the window. He slides off the table, walks around her, and touches her as he passes. He touches her lower back, runs his fingers right where her jeans meet skin, and squeezes her hip before he passes her. It's soft and s he has to stop herself from whimpering out loud. 

He opens the door, nods at Mr. Johnson and then he’s gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Where is this story going? No Idea. Am I writing this to procrastinate from the 348738 WIPs I have? Ding-ding. Is there more of this coming? Absolutely. Will I aim to break your heart with this story? Oui (that's yes in French).


End file.
